


The Art of Rhetoric

by Wolfields



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/F, Politics, Slow Burn, grad students, parliament system
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-24 16:00:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30074718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfields/pseuds/Wolfields
Summary: Ethos, Pathos, Logos and a whatever they can say to persuade the universe to let them be together.
Relationships: Sansa Stark/Margaery Tyrell
Comments: 6
Kudos: 24





	The Art of Rhetoric

**Author's Note:**

> No Beta, we die like Oberyn.
> 
> I own nothing of this fever dream.

“Excuse me, but do you think I could use the middle squash court starting now?” The voice startled Sansa, who was trying to read her book in peace behind the gym counter. She closed the book in a rush, which by the sheer force of the desperate hands slipped through and almost fell to the ground. Flailing her arms but managing to catch the book; Sansa just hopped she didn’t look as ridiculous as she knew she did.

The voice laughed, amused. Without looking at the person in order to cover the embarrassment, Sansa took her computer off from sleep mode and opened the schedule. The squash courts shouldn’t be busy right now, they were mostly used at the end of the day and not at 3pm on Wednesday’s. “The middle court should be free, but there is someone who is registered to use it from 3:30 to 4.” Sansa’s voice trembled when it came out, red rushing back into her face.

“Would that person be Margaery?” The woman leaned on top of the counter to try and look at the screen, prompting Sansa to finally face her embarrassment. She was older, even if the hair in a pony tail made her look a little younger. ‘One of the region alumni’s that use the gym?’ Sansa wondered. ‘Not in the middle of the afternoon, downtown is still working.’ The woman’s clothes did look expensive for mere gym attire, and the Bluetooth head phone around her neck plus the clearly very expensive brand of racquet coming out of her backpack sealed the deal. Trust fund baby.

“Yes, it seems to be Margaery. Is that your playing partner?” Again, laughter. If the voice wasn’t that silky Sansa would have launched herself into oblivion already. There’s a reason she chose to work the afternoon hours: she hates the gym, she needed money, only school athletes come at this time. Bingo, she gets to read and have a nice time.

“I’m sorry. I’ve just had a long day and my mind went to me playing against myself and it amused me.” Oh, okay. That makes sense. “I’ll grab the court starting now then. If you don’t mind.” Sansa nodded and gave the women the key, who thanked her and left to play.

Stretching the timeslot inside the schedule, Sansa had the urge to click on the woman’s profile and confirm her suspicions but she thought twice. She probably wouldn’t see this Margaery again and there was a book that needed to be read for tomorrow.

* * *

‘The Squash Player’ showed up again in two weeks, this time on a Saturday morning shift.

Sansa was in the back organizing the clean towels when she heard the voice talking to her manager Brienne. “Where’s Loras? Not playing with you anymore?” The tall woman asked Margaery.

“Got tired of losing to me, so he plays against Renly now.”

“You sure did keep him running.”

“Always running circles around my own family, it’s hard.” Margaery’s mocking tone was subtle, but Brienne’s laughter made it obvious. The urge to turn around and watch the conversation was growing, but she kept focusing on the towels in front of her.

“You’re lucky your grandma doesn’t play anymore.” Brienne retorted and now was Margaery’s turn to laugh. Sound of key’s juggling and the gym turnstile moving. Safe zone. Sansa turned with the folded towels the moment Margaery waved goodbye to her manager, eyes locking. Another fancy outfit, shiny and well taken care racquet, also giving a small wave for Sansa.

* * *

“Sansa, drop down.” Jeyne told her at the same time her hand pushed Sansa’s head down to the gym floor. Hiding under the balcony, she waited whatever thing that needed to pass for her to come back up. By the noise it seemed to be a team coming in. Oh, no. The Archery team.

“Jeyne” Joffrey’s voice. Sansa could imagine his disgusting face looking down on her friend.

“Do you need anything ya shit?”

“How dare you talk to me like that?”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. Business etiquette. Can I help you with something ya shit?” Backpacks were ruffled and a third unknown voice came.

“Joffrey. If you’re not inside the gym in two seconds you’re cleaning everyone’s equipment.” Tyrion, his archery coach and uncle. The only person the demon would listen to besides his mother. Sansa heard the turnstile and then came back up to sit at her chair. Jeyne still throwing daggers with her eyes towards Joffrey’s back.

“I forgot the gym back door is closed because of the AC maintenance. The fucker is going to be passing by every week for a month.” Jeyne answered Sansa’s quizzical look, after being satisfied with the curses set upon the blonde boy’s house.

“You can’t be answering him like that you know” Sansa crossed her arms. A defensive movement she acquired after being close to Joffrey for the amount of time she did.

“I’m not from a political family. He can’t hurt me. Unless he finds a way to triple my student debt.”

They worked in silence after that. Some athletes came and went. Towels and keys were distributed. A normal afternoon shift where Jeyne and Sansa managed to catch up to some of their reading’s. Jeyne was the one who got the idea of working at the gym in the afternoons. Sansa wanted to get some money while doing her Master’s, refusing to let her parent’s pay for more than her school. And Jeyne still had a year to go on her undergrad, ‘It’s your fault that you took a gap year, we could have graduated together’.

Sansa got up to organize some files in the back when she heard Jeyne welcome someone. “Hi Ms. Tyrell! Nice to see you outside your TA hours.”

“Wouldn’t you like that Jeyne. I graded your paper this afternoon, want to know how much you got?”

“Oh please, no. I’ll wait to suffer just like the rest of the class. Misery is better when shared.” Sansa raised her head from the files to see Margaery talking with Jeyne. This time the woman was dressed like a common Grad student. Well, as common as you can get when your button up shirt is Burberry.

“Good to know you listen to something about society in class.” Jeyne laughed more loudly than the jab required. She had info on that person, Sansa knew. “Could I get the squash court key and a towel this time?”

“Yeap. Right away Ms. Tyrell! Sansa! Could you bring me a towel from the back?” Jeyne shouted while she grabbed the keys. Margaery’s eyes shoot up to the back door, amused face looking Sansa top to bottom. The Tyrell woman was shorter than her, Sansa didn’t need to feel threatened, but she was in some way. The look felt as if she was in her parent’s political party gatherings. Every eye in the room measuring what kind of person she was, and especially what kind of power she held.

Sansa gave the towel to ‘Ms. Tyrell’ with a smile, that was returned. Different from the last two times, both smiles were not sincere, but calculated and polite. “Thank you, Sansa.” Margaery said and turned to get into the gym. When she was out of earshot Sansa turned to Jeyne, who was staring at her, scared.

“What?” Sansa asked.

“That was just intense bro. Did she ever ruffled your family’s feathers and I didn’t know?” Sansa turned her head in confusion. “You’re kidding me that you don’t know Margaery Tyrell?”

“How am I supposed to know her?” Sansa crossed her arms again. This day was already enough for her, she wanted a cup of tea and a blanket.

“She’s the granddaughter of Olenna Tyrell. The leader of the National Party Sansa!” Oh. Oh no. The NP has been at odds with the Realm Coalition for the last year because of disagreements related to the Green New Deal.

“But what is she doing here? You said she was your TA?”

“Yeah. She is the hot TA I’ve been talking about. From my State, Society and Power class.”

Margery Tyrell probably understood that she was a Stark right away. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What if she used the fact that Sansa was a gym worker to get some political leverage? Was that a thing? Could that be a thing?

“Is she also a Masters student?” Sansa asked. Not the right question to ask, but she really didn’t know what kind of question would give her the answer she needed.

“No, she’s doing her PhD. There’s a recurring joke in the department that she is using it to avoid her grandma’s wish to have her in Parliament.”

“But has she shown any wants of getting into politics?”

“I don’t know. She teaches some classes and lets me do dirty jokes during TA hours to avoid my sense of impending doom. She keeps it very private. Much like you.”

Not really understanding what was going on but sensing one of Sansa’s ‘thought storms’, Jeyne got up murmuring she was going to fold some towels and left for the back room. Sansa stayed with her thoughts. Not really sure if she should be worried, only that maybe she should be paying attention to Margaery Tyrell from now on.

* * *

Midterms came and with that, insanity ensued. All the coffee shops around the downtown campus were crammed with students and the library was worse than a zombie apocalypse. Sansa’s week was divided between writing paper’s, grading paper’s, giving out paper’s, ‘oh god please, stop with the paper’s!’

Sansa laid her head down on top of the lonely coffee table. She managed to get the last available spot, at the furthest back, of the most coveted student café and there were vultures around her. A boy with the worst hair cut Sansa has ever seen kept asking if she was going to leave as soon as she finished a cup of coffee – she had four already. One for every hour she has been grading her Intro to Literature paper’s. Sansa didn’t even know why the hell that boy wanted the table. He was reading a book at the counter and had no backpack around to indicate there was even more work on the way. If there was a back problem, there were spare chairs around! Fucking weird grad students.

The Stark’s phone vibrated. There was a commotion happening in the Literature department since the week prior; One that she actively chose not to engage with, until she has delivered her last assignment for the week. With the text thread muted Sansa raised her head again. At the corner of her eyes, the weird boy coming around to ask once more if she was about to leave.

“Sorry, excuse me.” His voice too loud for the quiet environment, which generated a few grunts coming from the sofa section “Would you be leaving soon?”

“No. I still have work to do. Sorry.” Sansa gave him a half assed smile and turned back to her papers. Only this time the boy didn’t leave.

“I’m sorry to bother you again. But I was hoping that I could walk you. After you finished. This” He pointed to the papers. ‘Oh no, he is not’ Thought Sansa ‘How do I event start getting rid of him?’ Sansa took a deep breath and counted to ten backwards in her head. In these moments she wished she was more like Arya. Her little sister would have laughed at this guy’s face and tell him to fuck off. But Sansa needed to always be polite. And honestly, there was danger in both their approaches as women, but Arya had self defense experience, Sansa didn’t.

“Oh, hey Bryan.” The voice of Margaery Tyrell came from the ether. Well, to be honest she came from the corner of the café, but it was more emphatic in Sansa’s mind if treated like that. “Did not know you started coming to the ‘plebe’s place’. Got tired of the Econ’s TA room?”

The poison in her voice could kill, but the smile the Tyrell woman had was throwing Bryan for a wild ride. His mouth opened and closed three times before he could answer her with a very low voice. “Nice to see you Margaery. I was just trying to talk with the pretty lady.” Sansa’s eyes rolled.

“The pretty lady has a name Bryan. But I assume you didn’t even ask her.” Margaery turned to the Stark, addressing her “Would you like to go out with Bryan?”

“No” Short and straight to the point. Jeyne would be proud.

Bryan murmured something to the Tyrell, who waved at him mockingly as he picked his stuff at the counter and left. Sansa was grateful that Margaery didn’t give him her name. Fear of being stalked around the school was also an aftermath from Joffrey.

“Are you okay?” Margaery’s face wasn’t equipped with teasing and poise anymore, it bared a tired but worried expression.

“I am, thank you.” Sansa took the beat to look over at the person in front of her. The usual backpack she saw the Tyrell with at the gym was now a messenger bag. So packed, the top lid wasn’t fully closed; being able to see tips of paper’s coming out of it. She held a book on her left hand and a steaming cup of coffee to go on her right. The t-shirt that had “King’s Pol Sci” was the cherry on top of the full “graduate student” package that Margaery Tyrell was at that moment. Sansa couldn’t hold her laughter.

“What?” The woman asked her, a hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth.

“You’re just. A pamphlet student right now. If you had a pair of thick glasses, I’d tell the school to just give you a diploma already.” With that, Sansa’s companion put her book and coffee at the corner of the table and rummaged through her bag. Taking out a brown circular framed pair of glasses and putting on herself.

“Can I please have my diploma now? I’m tired of dealing with my supervisor” Sansa laughed more than she should have. She blamed on the amount of coffee she had that afternoon, making her wired and prone to burst of emotions. The sofa section shushed her, but the giggles kept going.

“I’m happy I managed to bring some happiness in these dire midterm times. But I must be going to the cubicle that is my TA room. Tests to grade.” Margaery tapped her bag.

“Why don’t you sit here? I can make room, I’m just being disorganized with my papers” Sansa said that on a whim, without thinking really. Just a nice act after receiving one. But their last names caught up to their situation really quickly. The Tyrell was looking at her as if she was pondering a chess move, Sansa was shouting inside her head for maybe doing something that wasn’t politically acceptable. “It’s okay if you don’t want to…”

Margaery raised her hand to stop Sansa rant to continue. “It’s okay. We’re just two students trying to get done with this week. Right?” There were many layers to that question in such a public space. Sansa wasn’t aware if people around them at that moment knew there was a Stark and a Tyrell talking. Even if they cared at all about anything related to their last names and politics. But both grew up in an environment where they pay attention to their movements, who they talk to, which connections they make. And most important, if someone was trying to use them for any other purpose.

So, yes, they were two students wanting to get done with that week. But they needed to be sure they were only that. And blaming on the coffee – again - for the amount of awareness on Margaery’s face, Sansa was sure the other woman just wanted a break. Maybe a safe moment inside the turmoil that her life seemed to be. And wanting to help the Tyrell achieve that, Sansa said yes.

* * *

“They can’t do that to us!” Shae banged her fist on the table and got up to pace around the meeting room. Lucky them to be inside one of the most isolated rooms in the library, because the shouting and multiple voice arguments that were happening would have got them kicked out already.

Sansa was present, but she didn’t say a word regarding the _big_ problem. She heard her department colleagues, she read the university’s statement. They were in a very difficult predicament.

“What if we ask for the film studies seminar classroom? They only use it when there are thesis defences.” A guy that the Stark couldn’t remember the name spoke on top of the voices, making Shae turn to him with more deadly intent.

“I am not working in an auditorium Reynold” Shae was in the fourth year of her PhD. The things this woman has seen and fought for in the department could fill a book. And the last thing that she wanted - very close to graduating - was to fight the department over their TA’s room.

King’s Landing University was always under construction, a never finalized symphony or something like that. It was a joke that had some foundations of truth, as the campus had very close ties to politicians and rich donors that wanted to expand their influence as much as possible. That meant new buildings, new refurbished areas and especially new technology labs. And sadly, their room was decided to be part of what would be the new Incubator for Media Business.

But fret not! Said the University. You will have a new room, bigger, nicer, new computers and even controllable AC in the summer. It’s right here, on the outskirts of campus!

The arguments and shouting were very tamed in consideration to what was done to them. So, the room of around ten TA’s has been discussing what to do for those two hours, with no solution in sight. Part of the room wanted to find a space they could use and propose it to the Department. Meet them half-way or something like that. A minor part wanted to go on full strike. “That is a last resource, we’re not even going to talk about it now” Shae shut down that idea right at the beginning.

And some other part seemed to be trying to figure out a third option, which Sansa had no clue on how that was possible. The Stark had mentioned asking the Graduate Union for help, but as most of the present in the room voted for a different group in the elections, they ignored her remark in the middle of the shouting.

‘There was a reason I was avoiding this during midterms. I don’t know how dad does this’ Sansa rubbed her face and opened her laptop. She could at least try to get some work done. Reading over what she wrote last night on her thesis document, a message popped up on the screen.

Shae at 15:43 _  
_ ‘Could you check who is the University Commissioner at the Union and send them an email? I don’t trust these morons.’

Sansa raised her eyes and saw that her colleague was holding her cellphone, but focused on rebuking another silly idea that involved using the teacher’s lounge. With a smirk, the red head opened another tab and went to confirm who was the board for this year’s Union. Scrolling down, she saw a very familiar name.

Sansa S. at 15:45 _  
_ ‘I’m on it’

* * *

“We meet again Ms. Stark” Margaery was typing away on her laptop, only raising her glance to double check that Sansa indeed came into the Union office and took a seat in front of her desk. It was funny how that room managed to be a whirlwind of bookshelves and cabinets when they were in one of the oldest and most charming houses on campus. The noise of visual information was a stark contrast with the well taken care garden and outside.

“Give me just one second to finish this email and I’ll give you my full attention” Margaery kept typing vigorously, glasses already slid down to the tip of her nose. “Done” With a dramatic pause to press enter, the PhD candidate closed her laptop and turned to Sansa. “So, I went around this week to talk with some people at the Dean’s office.”

Sansa clasped her hands together and played with her thumbs while listening. “Most of them didn’t seem to know they kicked you from a TA office, which is typical. Usually construction decisions ignore any movement that doesn’t involve machinery or equipment. And it’s really hard to argue that the Lab placing is wrong because it _is_ the oldest building on campus. So, not a lot of great places with the amount of wires they’re going to need.”

“You’re saying there’s no hope?” Sansa interjected. None of that information sounded very positive.

“Not at all. Just that it will be tricky. Your group idea of finding a replacement room is good, because we need to know our options for bargaining purposes. Do you think it would be fine to have a smaller room or share with another department?”

“I don’t see an issue with that. But I can’t vouch for all of the TAs. They don’t know I’m here talking to you in the first place.”

“Right! They didn’t vote for us. No trust. University lapdogs. Gotcha.” Margaery put her right elbow on the desk and leaned her head on her hand, looking lost in thought. “I have two options for you. One” She raised her left hand to start counting “we bring this to the Dean’s office with an official letter. The TA’s need to sign, we need to present a counter proposal and start talking procedures. That means we’ll need a representative from the department to tag along with me to every meeting.”

Sansa’s lack of words might not have told Margaery that she thought it was an awful option, but her expression definitely did. If they started any procedure it would be the Stark name there, and the last thing she wanted was to be intertwined with political situations on a school that had too many ties to the world of her family.

“The second option I can’t tell you. But I know it will work.”

“What kind of option is that? Are you going to blackmail someone?” Sansa spit out without thinking. The thought of politics made her defense reaction uglier than she wanted. Damn subconscious.

“No. No blackmail. Only a gut feeling that I can arrange this in one sitting with the right person. And no offense, but if your reaction is as honest as the one just now. It’s better not knowing, in case any of your colleagues asks you anything.”

Sansa huffed and crossed her arms, but she nodded in agreement.

* * *

_Dear Teaching and Graduate Assistants,_

_In the last month we’ve been heavily deliberating your room allocation as the University required the space for the new Media Lab. Our requests to the Dean’s Office to keep your new room close to the department’s office seemed to have put a halt on the negotiations, as the school didn’t seem to be able to provide us with what was requested._

_Regarding these circumstances, we started looking into shared space with other departments. This venture bared fruits as the Political Science Head had been in conversations with the Dean’s Office to use a former chemistry lab on the fourth floor of our main building. The only issue was accessibility, as an elevator needs to be added to that side of the wing._

_As part of our objective to provide proper work space for our students, the Department of Literature has accepted to finance part of the cost of the elevator installation together with the Political Science Department. Both Departments Assistants will share the same space starting the Winter term in January. All furniture will be moved during your break._

_We would like to express our deep gratitude to the Political Science Department that made this all possible. The future is exciting and bright for education._

_Best,_

* * *

Sansa S. at 14:17 _  
_ You really did come through. How did you manage this?

Tyrell at 15:02 _  
_ Our head of department wants to run for Dean next year. I just slipped in the info about the chemistry room being empty and that it would look nice with the teachers. All in a University Commissioner’s day ;)

Sansa S. at 15:03 _  
_ I guess the rumor that you didn’t want a political career was false then.  
Owe you one either way.

Tyrell at 15:06 _  
_ That’s a topic for another day.  
If you make sure I always have my squash slots and a place at the coffee shop for finals we’re even.

* * *

The end of the Fall semester was as intense as midterms, but it was over as fast as it came around. Sansa and Jeyne made good use of their gym work hours to get better at the art of multitasking. Brienne wasn’t the biggest fan of their endeavours, but she only got good feedback for them – which put her on a position of just rolling her eyes in the back room.

Sansa didn’t manage to keep the coffee table promise to Margaery, mostly because she had no time to fight for one with her current schedule. In between cleaning, taking all TAs belongings from their old room, grading final paper’s and writing her own plus the gym, her counter offer to the Tyrell was hallway coffee talk and double the squash slots. After the third consecutive day of showing up to play, Margaery started leaving her racket and shoes inside Sansa’s gym locker. She would call, Sansa would slot the time in the system and ten minutes later here it comes: a close to snapping PhD candidate that is trying to avoid committing cold blooded murder.

“You need it after the second faculty meeting that leads nowhere, followed by Union bullshit and I still have undergrad emails to answer. Don’t even get me started on grading.”

At least Margaery leaves her session looking carefree. Jeyne was working on the first chunk of her undergrad thesis at the same time Sansa was writing her thesis proposal, which in simpler words, made them both a walking stress bomb. They had bags of chocolate at the apartment and also decided to indulge themselves on hiring someone to clean in the middle of the week after almost ripping each other apart over a dirty sink. Friendship is more important than a few bucks, in the end.

So, it was a relief and welcomed break when they both pressed send on their projects, drank wine till they fell asleep and finally got into Jeyne’s car to drive towards Winterfell the next morning. It was a long but known journey for the both of them. Watching the scenery change while drinking coffee, sharing French fries from a convenience store and watching the snow mounts start to show up and slowly growing bigger and wider. Home getting closer and closer.

The trip was a moment of relaxation. Spotty telephone signal allowed to excuse themselves from any possible call or last-minute school emails. It was going great for Sansa, mentally smelling her mom’s hot cocoa already when Jeyne blurted out between songs.

“I am moving back to Winterfell after graduating.” It might have been the lack of a quick answer from her friend, but Jeyne started panic and blurt apologies mixed with a last week decision and missing home so much she couldn’t stay in King’s Landing anymore.

“Jeyne.” Sansa muttered when the driver’s breath finally ran out. “It’s okay.” It wasn’t, but Sansa would lie to her grave instead of admitting that. It would bring her friend too much pain. But she could at least sugar coat her lie with undeniable truth. “I know what it’s like to want to be home and to miss it.”

“I know it puts you in an uncomfortable position, with having to find a roommate or moving.” Jeyne took her right hand out of the wheel to hold Sansa’s and she was shedding some tears in the process. “And that I’m the only family you have there now. I wish… I wish I was stronger like you.”

“No, Jeyne.” Sansa squeezed the hand between her fingers. “You’re strong. You’re so, so, strong. Going back to Winterfell is not being weak. It means you know what you want.” She opened the glove compartment and took a tissue package that was always left there for emergencies, in order to clean Jeyne’s wet cheeks. “And you know what? We still have a whole semester to annoy each other and makes plans and kill more plants in the apartment.”

Jeyne laughed and cried again until they finally reached Winterfell.

“Sansa, darling. Could you pass me the potatoes?” Her mom said from the other side of the dinning table. The bowl in which contained the smashed potatoes was right in front of Arya, who was too focus in shoving her food down her throat as fast as possible. Sansa stretched her arms, avoiding her sister who could eat one of her fingers by mistake.

“Here mom.” Ned, who was in the middle of them, finished the package transfer and put his fork down by his plate.

“I need to be at King’s Landing at the end of the month.” Her dad told her nonchalantly, as if it was a normal thing for the head of the Starks to leave Winterfell. “Do you think I could catch a ride with you and Jeyne when you drive back?”

Sansa wanted to ask why her dad was going to King’s Landing when he had been kicked out of running for a National Parliament seat years ago, but she could see her mother’s face behind him and that was enough of a warning. Less things you know, less it can bother you in daily life. So, Sansa got settled on the second most important question of the evening.

“Can you deal with almost nine hours of car singing?”

After the dinner and this weird interaction with her dad, Sansa grabbed a cup of hot cocoa and was ready to spend some hours by her room’s window doing nothing but immerse herself into literary fantasy while under a blanket. But the day was not over with little surprises, as her phone vibrated and a message popped up.

Margaery at 20:14  
I went by the gym today and Brienne told me you and Jeyne left for the break to never come back :(

The Stark laughed and typed an answer.

Sansa at 20:14  
We sadly will not be returning to get you squash court slots for the next semester. We thank you for your interest and patronage.  
Seriously, one semester of constant towel folding was enough for me.

Margaery at 20:15  
Well, I did have a thank you present for being really nice with my “anger hour.”  
But now I’m eating it.

Sansa at 20:15  
What????

Margaery at 20:15  
Attached picture

Sansa at 20:17  
You’re lucky I had dessert and I can’t slap you from here. Why would you show me my favourite tart when I can’t have it???

Margaery at 20:17  
You were right. This lemon tart is SO GOOD.  
Attached picture

Margaery at 20:19  
Okay, I’ll stop.

Margaery at 20:21  
Sans?

Margaery at 20:23  
I’m sorry. I know how you take your sweets seriously.

Sansa at 20:25  
Apology accepted. You didn’t survive that long in quiet zone eh?

Margaery at 20:26  
I am not proud of that. I just had a lonely week.

Sansa marked her book and put it aside. Lonely week? The Margaery Tyrell that she knows would never in her sane mind show weakness like this. Sansa and Jeyne have seen “anger squash” Tyrell, but never, sad and upset Tyrell. The thought of someone, that always seemed to be in control of everything and surrounded by people, saying that they are lonely didn’t sit quite right with Sansa and she caught herself listening to the phone ringing.

“Sansa?” Margaery’s confused and surprised voice came from her phone.

“Hi.”

“To what do I owe this call?” Her voice went to a lower register, poised, controlled.

“You said you were lonely.” Sansa answered without a beat. It was simple as that, but judging by the silence that followed, it wasn’t the same at the Tyrell side. The Stark inhaled in order to try and remedy the situation but was cut by an answer.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to, though.”

“Well, I know who your supervisor is and what political tendencies they have. If that is not grad school friendship, I don’t know what is.” Sansa went for the joke approach, feeling uneasy now about her choice of calling on a whim. Maybe the easy feeling of being at home made her too comfortable and she might have committed a political gaff in some way.

“You’ve seen me almost break a racquet and I did shady business for you. We can say this is a proper friendship.” The Tyrell laughed on the other side of the phone, easing all nervous thoughts in Sansa’s mind. They were friends, she didn’t do anything wrong and might have jeopardized a friendship or her dad’s career. The God’s of old know how doing that once is enough.

“The shady business was also for yourself I would like to point out.”

“Indeed. But I wouldn’t have done it without the lady's little push.” They both giggled like nothing was wrong and fell into a harmless and safe conversation about their thesis, supervisors and plans for the next semester. Margaery was also going into her last year next summer and they both commiserated in the idea that they will spend most of their next year and a half writing and reading, then writing, then reading, then getting notes, re-writing, reading more, wanting to die, pondering if they could abandon grad school and writing a little more.

“I’m not worried much about the writing. It will be hell, don’t get me wrong. But it’s reading the legislations. Law is so boring and made for you to give up reading and with thousands of interpretations. It infuriates me.”

“Want to trade? I’ll read your legislation and you read my old dusty books?” Sansa was looking out the window and noticed that it started to snow again. Tomorrow would be a good day for a snow ball fight.

“You mean the pages and pages of odes and speeches of heroes? I prefer dealing with more actual things. At least I don’t need to learn dead languages.” You could feel the smirk in Margaery’s face when she ‘insulted’ Sansa’s research. Because matter of fact, Jeyne let her know that the Tyrell does read some lost languages because she thought that going back in time in King’s and Queen’s orders and law’s she could find something related to the homeless and food distribution. Margaery plays the silly part well when she wants, but who cares to do some research on her can see beyond the farce. ‘Killing mental machine’, as Jeyne would say.

“It’s snowing here.” Sansa said while she opened her window just enough for her hand to get through and feel the flakes touching her skin.

“I’ve never seen snow.”

“Serious?”

“Spent most of my life in the Reach. Warm and cozy and now I get cold in King’s Landing.”

“King’s Landing is not cold.” Margaery huffed from the other side and Sansa rolled her eyes.

“It might not be cold for the girl who was raised under a dire wolf to keep warm. But it’s pretty cold here in this empty house.” The sound of plates being put on a sink and cutlery hitting its walls was followed by water running. Sansa took a deep breath and pondered for two hot seconds before prying.

“You’re not going to the Reach for the break?” There has been this pull for a while now. She has merely called it a curious bone towards Margaery, as the girl was one of the most interesting people she had met in the last few years. It’s how she controls a room when she walks in, even if it’s the gym lobby. The coffee study sessions they had and commiserated with. The Tyrell never says a lot, just leaves hints of who she is. And Sansa has this urge to follow.

“I am. Next week.”

“Still haven’t finished school stuff?” Sansa pressed, wondering if her curiosity would set the other women off. Her hand, now soaked of snow finally asked for a relief and she brought it in, warming it up underneath her blanket.

“I have. It’s just…family.” The tone of voice indicated that the conversation should end there. In Westeros, if you bring family issues it means you’re not supposed to know and they don’t want or can’t tell you.

“Well, take care okay?” Sansa rearranged herself underneath the blanket, hoping that it could take the awkward feeling of Margaery’s answer away. “It’s kinda late and I want to read a little before going to bed.”

“Alright. Thank you for calling Sansa. It meant a lot.” Sansa smiled to herself. For what, she didn’t know, just embraced the warm feeling.

“One last thing before I go.” Margaery gave a pause, pondering what she wanted to say. “I know you’re uneasy with the politics life, but I wanted to say that you can trust me. I promise.”

They said their goodbyes and Sansa looked outside her window again. Book long forgotten. Only the ominous words that came from the Tyrell.

* * *

**BREAKING NEWS: Robert Baratheon Being Investigated on Murder of Treasury Secretary**

Prime Minister Robert Baratheon and leader of the Realm Coalition took a week off of his political duties in order to testify in the case of Jon Arryn’s death. This news comes a month after the death of the Secretary in which the public was led to believe as a household accident involving wrong doses of medicament for Arryn’s heart issues.

The House of Commons have been on the verge of breakdown over discussions related to the Green New Deal since January and Jon Arryn was one of the main supporters of the Bill created by the National Party. His death came in February, which stopped all negotiations and moved the public sphere conversations elsewhere.

Robert Baratheon has been seen coming into the King’s Landing first district Headquarters for testimonials accompanied by Eddard Stark. A long-time family friend and rumored to be looking into changing his seat at the Winterfell Parliament for King’s Landing. Sources have confirmed Eddard has also been talking with the police in this case, but we can’t confirm if he is also being considered a suspect or not.


End file.
